


This Devil's Workday

by NightxPine



Series: This Devil's Workday [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightxPine/pseuds/NightxPine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan learns that maybe Geoff sees him as more than just a rough fuck to relieve tension.</p><p>AKA Continuation of the Ramwood GTA!verse because I can't stop</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Devil's Workday

**Author's Note:**

> Not as pleased as I could have been with a few scenes, but I wanted to just power through and get this posted. Not beta-read either so any mistakes, and there most probably will be mistakes, are completely my own and feel free to point them out. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> As always,
> 
> Slàinte Mhath <3

Ryan was scowling down at the restrained man in front of him. Of course, the other couldn’t see his expression past the dull black skull mask he wore, but that didn’t matter. He’d meet the same fate with the same unwavering fear, regardless.

Brandishing one of his more dulled blades, Ryan gripped at the man’s jaw and pressed a hard line down the side of his face. It took more force to be exerted for the cool metal to break hot skin, and the man in the chair squirmed as much as his restraints allowed.

“Where’s your ringleader?” Ryan was calm. The other man wasn’t, but he remained stubborn in his silence. Making a show of sighing in faux regret, Ryan placed the knife down on his personal table of instruments in favour of a pair of large metal forceps. He was deliberately slow in his approach, making his intentions clear as he brought the forceps closer to the rival gang member’s shackled hand.

Ryan watched in disjointed fascination as the man’s face contorted between expressions of fear, anger, anticipation, and, most fun, one of a slowly crumbling resolve.

He didn’t crack, however, when Ryan slowly pulled off the first fingernail.

His voice did when he screamed, though.

Seven slow fingernails later, Ryan changed his tactic. He took his blade and hovered it over one of the man’s fingers before bringing it down just below the knuckle, smoothly cutting the finger off clean. He paused to allow the lackey to finish his blood-curdling scream before pressing the blade against the man’s second finger, and the man sung out the information like a good little bird. Boy was it music to Ryan’s ears.

Fucking finally.

Grinning, scalpel now in hand, he made a clean cut along the man’s neck, stepping back to grimace at the blood flowing down the man’s front and staining his skin and clothes.

He could probably rope someone else into helping clean up.

He was behind schedule.

_Ryan felt the slip back into partial consciousness, and then he was wide-awake, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was startled briefly when the room he awoke in was unfamiliar, despite his history of always moving between small motels, and the second thing he saw that morning was the sleeping form of Geoff._

_That was the calmest and most vulnerable he’d ever seen the older man. He had to admit, it was pleasant._

_Checking the time, 5 am, Ryan rolled out of bed, feet thudding on the hard wood floor. He hastily redressed, his clothes were badly crumpled and his shirt sported a small tear, and soundlessly left the room._

_He had a lot to do._

The ride across the city only took a few minutes, and the speed his bike took him left Ryan exhilarated. Relying on stealth for once, he entered through a conveniently opened window on the fourth floor. There was someone inside, who he quickly dispatched with a silenced shot to the head. He made his way down the building, leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake, until he reached the room that held the rival gang’s boss. He moved fast and efficiently.

It was over before it even started. 

Starting his motorbike back up, Ryan departed the scene with an added weight to the bag slung over his back and took the scenic route back to their base. It was a few minutes past 8am. He could risk getting flagged and tailed by cops to spare some time from speeding. 

Killing the engine, he made his way inside. Taking his mask off, he noticed the base was empty, save for Geoff. The older man was lounging on the sofa, nursing a large, steaming mug of coffee, scanning their personal map of Los Santos. Geoff briefly glanced toward him before turning back. 

“What happened to you?” His tone was neutral, indifferent. 

Ryan walked towards the other man and dumped the bag on the table. Geoff slowly leaned back and properly looked at the younger man. Wordlessly, he reached forward and opened the bag, barely flinching at the contents. 

“Is this really-?”

“Yep.” The head of the head of a small rival gang that Geoff despised. 

“Dicks, dude.” When he looked back up, Geoff’s gaze held some appreciation for him. 

“Got some of her lackeys, too.” 

“Hopefully that’ll finally get them off our dicks.” Geoff sighed, “Good job.” Ryan’s eyes darkened. He was still feeling a high from the previous rush of adrenaline, and so what if he sometimes gained a guilty satisfaction from pleasing his boss. He spotted the dark red marks that littered the older man’s neck and jaw, and had briefly glanced at himself in the mirror that morning to know he didn’t look much better. He probably looked worse. Geoff noticed him staring. 

“See something you like?” Ryan made a low keening sound. “Shame your turtleneck is covering yours.” Geoff leaned back and Ryan dropped forwards, placing his hands on either side of Geoff, and kissed him. Geoff genuinely seemed startled by Ryan’s actions, but he was quick to commandeer the kiss. His tattooed arms came up and Geoff gripped at the hem of Ryan’s turtleneck, unceremoniously dragging it up and off, mouths separating for a moment. 

“When I said you needed to work to ‘regain my favour’, I’ll be honest this isn’t where I expected you to take it.” Geoff panted between kisses. Ryan couldn’t help but snort. 

“If that’s so, then I’m impressed.” 

Ryan moved to mouth at his jaw, hand reaching down between their bodies and undoing the button of Geoff’s trousers, and Geoff ran his hands along Ryan’s shoulders and back, fingers dancing over the hickeys and bruises. He shuddered when Ryan’s hand brushed against his cock, and one hand snaked up and threaded through golden brown locks. Ryan trailed his mouth further down, never moving to take off the older man’s shirt, until it hovered just above Geoff’s crotch. He paused there, ice eyes flicking up to watch Geoff’s face as he then lowered his mouth. 

The room was silent save for the sound of heavy breathing and lewd wet noises. They were in the middle of the living room, out in the open for anyone to walk in on. It was not an intimate situation, and Ryan’s main focus was to bring Geoff pleasure as he used as many tricks he could. 

At the end of it, Ryan’s throat ached, his mouth was bruised, his stomach felt uncomfortably more full, and a few of his more sensitive hair follicles were protesting. Geoff sat slumped into the couch, his breathing slow. Ryan was the first to move, gently tucking Geoff back into his trousers before leaning back and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 

*

Geoff was in a much better mood that afternoon, and everyone within the crew noticed. 

Ryan had immediately gone back out for collection of their ordered weapons, and when he’d come back to the safe house he could tell that the others had reached some form of small revelation. Every time Ryan would walk up to one of them for some reason or another and Geoff just so happened to enter or be in the room, they would have this _look_ , this curious look, in their eyes as their gaze flit between him and their boss. And yet no one would actually voice out anything. 

Don’t ask don’t tell. That was their system. 

It also explained how they’d picked up on this shifted dynamic and wordlessly stepped back to let Ryan take some of the more mundane tasks if there was nothing important to be done. They never mentioned it whenever Geoff pulled Ryan away from the group for some of his more private jobs or ‘tasks’. 

Weeks later and Geoff and Jack were hunched over the map, voices hushed, as Ryan watched the room, mindlessly picking one of his scabbed wounds. Ray was compulsively cleaning his hot pink sniper-rifle, a loving attentiveness evident in each swipe of his hand. Gavin and Michael were sat together, heads down, as they spoke in hushed tones. It was probably a small argument, a common occurrence with them, if the way Michael’s voice would occasionally rise before quickly falling back into a murmur was anything to go by. 

Compared to the events of the days (and nights) prior, the day had passed boring and mostly uneventful. 

Geoff rose and cleared his throat, demanding all attention in the room to turn to him. There was a set to his jaw that insinuated a turf-related job. Should be fairly easy, not requiring all of them to participate. 

“Alright, assholes, I need to pay Shadles a visit tomorrow. Ryan,” Ryan raised his head, eyes locking with Geoff’s for a moment, an unspoken challenge evident in the older man’s gaze, before he continued, “Ray, you two will be accompanying me.” Ryan flicked his gaze to Ray, the two exchanging a small nod. “The rest of you are free to relax in the meantime, it shouldn’t take too long.” They were dismissed, the lack of energy in each of them seemingly draining the room of life, and each departed to their own separate rooms for the night. 

Ryan wasn’t sure what he was expecting, maybe for Geoff to pull him back into his room, to exchange a few words, or even to shoot him an appraising look. So when Geoff spared him no attention, Ryan turned around, mounted his bike, and rode to the next shitty motel that could take a bribe. 

*

The sun hadn’t yet reached its highest peak when the three of them arrived at the base of Shadles’ gang territory. Geoff had an air of nonchalant importance; holding a completely relaxed, confident posture, wearing his black suit and a pair of sunglasses. Ray looked vaguely bored, finger loosely settled on the trigger of his gun. Ryan had on his trademark skull mask, cold eyes mistrustfully surveying the surrounding area. 

The first shot came from the northeast, bullet piercing the road mere inches from Geoff’s feet. Ryan and Ray’s reactions were immediate; guns following the trajectory path and pinpointing the sniper camped on the warehouse roof. 

“We come in peace,” Geoff called out, unaffected by the warning shot, “I would just like to have a word with your boss.” Although Shadles’ gang was less well known than the Fake AH Crew, and somewhat less formidable, they were much larger in member size. 

There were a few seconds of tense silence before one of Shadles’ men walked out of the warehouse, stopping feet away from them hunched and scowling, gesturing for them to holster their weapons and follow him. 

The shooting started before they entered the warehouse. 

Cursing, Geoff motioned for them to duck down, occasionally blindly firing return shots. There wasn’t much cover available, so the small overhang they sheltered under seemed like a godsend, considering the majority of the shooters were on higher ground. The three of them fired until their clips emptied, before reloading and restarting. Between the three of them, they had managed to pick off a sizeable amount of men. 

A metallic clang resounded around them, and a grenade leisurely rolled in front of their position. Snarling, Ryan swept it up and threw it back in the general direction most of the shooting was originating from. Geoff and Ray, using the temporary distraction, darted out and away from the rival territory, Ryan providing extra cover by shooting those that were still threats.

The explosion shook the earth, and heat enveloped Ryan’s body, making it hard to breathe, as he braced against the force of the blast, arm reaching up to shield his face.

He recovered as fast as he could manage, sprinting to Geoff and Ray. He could have been faster.

He caught the glint of sunlight against silver in his peripheral, and turned to see one of Shadles’ men steadily point his weapon at Geoff; Geoff, who was still slightly off-balance from the grenade explosion. Pulling his lips back in a wordless snarl, Ryan surged forwards and shoved Geoff out of the way. The bullet grazed his arm, momentum causing his body to turn in midair, and he skidded painfully along concrete. There was a small explosion somewhere to Ryan’s left, and through the ringing in his ears he could hear Geoff yell out. 

“What the fuck! Ray, was that you?” 

“It was Shadles!” 

There was no reply from Geoff for a few beats. Two men were on ground level, slowly approaching, shots close to hitting their marks, and Ryan swiftly offed them. He was dimly aware of liquid warmth seeping down his sleeve as he turned his attention to the remaining men shooting from the warehouse. 

A bullet whizzed past his head and he flared his nose. Feeling his adrenaline spark, Ryan channeled the feeling into the arm holding his gun. Geoff called a retreat and Ryan started slowly walking backwards, yelling for them to go ahead, ignoring Geoff’s loud protests. He fired until his last clip emptied. Checking that Geoff and Ray were out of the line of fire, Ryan turned and ran out of Shadles’ territory. It was a short sprint back to Geoff’s car and Ryan arrived in no time. 

Geoff’s silently fuming expression was the first thing to greet him when he arrived. 

“What was _that_ , asshole? Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed?!” Geoff moved into Ryan’s space, gripping at his shoulders. Ryan’s heartbeat had started to level out but his mind still held that sharp clarity adrenaline gave him. 

“I was trying to help you get out unscathed.” He deadpanned. 

“Oh yeah? Well, contrary to whatever I say and whatever you make me think, you’re actually a lot more fucking useful to me alive than dead.” Geoff seemed to wait for Ryan to respond, but when he remained silent the older man huffed loudly and moved to the driver’s side. “Fucking _idiot_.” He slammed the car door behind him and revved up the engine. Ryan looked to Ray where he’d been standing quietly through the ordeal.

“I don’t care what Geoff says, man. Thanks for that. I appreciate not having any bullet holes in me today.” Ryan nodded in acknowledgement.

*

The ride back had been awkward and silent. Ryan had been sitting in the front passenger seat, and couldn’t ignore Geoff’s incessant tapping on the steering wheel. His angry driving wasn’t exactly pleasant, and Ryan was jostled more often than comfortable, arm jolting forward to brace against the dashboard; a couple of times the pain in his arm was much more noticeable due to the stress.

Ryan had retreated to a back room as soon as they arrived at the base to clean up treat his wound. The process was methodical, almost instinctual now, and he’d become so accustomed to the pain that he barely flinched as the alcohol streamed into the wound. Jack had come in soon after, wordlessly checking Ryan’s work until she was satisfied and tightly wrapped a bandage around the wound. Ryan mumbled his thanks as Jack left, slipping off his mask and dropping it on the bed next to him. He sat there, numbly staring at his hands, for a long while.

It must have been well past dusk when Geoff entered, looking relatively calmer than he’d been before. There was still a small scowl etched on his face, but he no longer looked like he wanted to rip Ryan a new one. He walked over, smoothly swooping down and catching Ryan’s lips in a desperate kiss. Geoff kissed hungrily, slowly pushing Ryan down until his back hit the bed and crawled over him, one hand moving up to thread through Ryan’s hair. Geoff tasted like whisky, and Ryan felt like he could get drunk purely by kissing the other man. Already addicted, he moved one hand to the nape of Geoff’s neck, pulling him closer, clutching at Geoff’s shirt with the other.

Being a hair’s breadth away from death almost every day tended to leave a man with few inhibitions. Ryan knew their relationship was unhealthy, but he easily lost himself in the feeling of Geoff lazily rutting against him. Their cocks never went past being half-hard, merely finding a way to burn off their remaining adrenaline until fatigue kicked in. Geoff moved to suck kisses along Ryan’s jaw.

“I need you to wound Shadles.” Geoff murmured into his skin, “Take down as many of his men as you can without getting hurt. Let him know no one fucks with us.” The warm breath sent shivers up Ryan’s spine as his fogged mind processed Geoff’s words. He licked his lips.

“Yes boss.”

*

They had fallen asleep tangled together, barely ceasing in their kissing until the moment their minds dragged them into the dark fog of sleep forced them to, and had woken up not much different. Ryan slowly blinked his eyes open against the bright glare of the room, and he was met with Geoff’s half-lidded dark blues staring at his face. The other man’s expression was startlingly soft, and Ryan could’ve sworn the thumb resting along his jaw gave a gentle rub. He felt himself stiffen, uncertain as to what to do.

Their low breathing was the only thing to be heard in the silence of the room as warmth cocooned them, Ryan’s arm draped loosely over Geoff’s waist. Several minutes passed, and then something shifted in Geoff’s expression. Wordlessly, in a single roll, he detangled himself from Ryan and got out of bed, standing with his back to the other man. The sudden burst of cold was a shock to Ryan’s system.

Geoff seemed to think about changing there, hands partially rising to undo the buttons on his blouse, but faltered in his action, arms dropping stiffly to his sides. He gave a low, barely audible huff and strode out of the room, door clicking behind him. Ryan propped himself up on his forearms, blankly staring at the door before dragging himself to his feet, an unknown discomfort settling heavy in his gut.

*

Maybe the black cat suit was unnecessary, but after bugging several locations within the warehouse, it proved effective as Ryan hid nearby, patiently waiting for a lull in activity.

It came once their boss was no longer within their vicinity. Ryan noticed Shadles, bracketed by two of his lackeys, leave the warehouse and he pointed his gun directly at the man. Looking at his trajectory, he realised he had a clean shot – could just take the man out and be done with – but Geoff’s words rung in his head and he moved his finger away from the trigger.

_I need you to wound him._

That and Ryan knew it wouldn’t be a very smart idea. Shadles’ gang may not consist of the most intelligent people, but they greatly outnumbered the Fake AH Crew – and more importantly at that very space and time, Ryan – and pulling a stunt like murdering their boss _right in front_ of them would definitely elicit a violent reaction.

Rising to a crouch, he crept around the perimeter, attaching a silencer to his handgun, before he slipped in through a back door and immediately killed those within range. He stuck to the shadows, and there were many with the lack of windows and crap lighting. He kept to using his knife instead of his gun, slitting throats and grimacing at the splatters of warm blood down the front of his suit. He only reverted back to his gun when there were too many men in the same area for him to get the slip on before they would shoot him, but his actions quickly found the building devoid of activity.

Avoiding stepping on the blood was like avoiding stepping on the floor as Ryan deftly crossed the small room. Blood smoothly dripped from the three fingers he had used to crudely draw their gang insignia on the wall directly opposite the door. Dragging the bodies to one location didn’t take long, and the dark blood trails would prove helpful for Shadles to easily uncover his missing men. Ryan counted around a dozen men killed, at least. It would have to do.

Having completed his task, Ryan walked out. Patches of bloodied cloth clung uncomfortably to his skin as he moved, the black material leaving the stains unnoticeable.

*

“The hell are you wearing?”

Ryan had barely walked through the door when Michael commented from his place on the couch, TV remote lax in his hand. He didn’t bother replying.

“Where’s Geoff?”

Michael shrugged without sparing him a glance.

“Out.”

Ryan moved to the back of the house, starting to unzip the jacket that clung to him, and took one of the spare towels before heading into the bathroom. He peeled off the cat suit, stripping bare, and dumped the bloodied clothing in the sink, hastily scrubbing the blood away in cold water before climbing into the shower.

Feeling the hot water wash over him and prick slightly at his skin, Ryan felt the haze over his mind lift with the vapour. Showers had always been at the top of Ryan’s list of ways to calm down after a murder spree. He let his mind drift to think of nothing in particular, anything that had nothing to do with the details or technicalities of his life.

The mirror had steamed up and small droplets of condensation formed along the walls and surfaces in the bathroom. Wrapping a towel around his torso, Ryan moved to the room across the hall, closing the door behind him and foregoing the lock. He’d just pulled his trousers up, arms about to rise to pull his shirt down, when he heard the door open. A small, choked-off cough sounded behind him.

“Sorry, I’ll just-“

Ryan turned around to see Geoff standing rigid as a wooden plank under the doorframe. They stood, frozen, watching each other, both as uncertain as the other on what to say or do. Geoff slowly backed out, shutting the door. Ryan finished dressing, giving his wet hair a final ruffle with the towel, and exited the room.

Geoff was stood by the kitchen counter, pouring alcohol into a glass, when Ryan came out. Once the older man noticed him there, his posture shifted; back straightened, shoulders tensed, his grip on the glass bottle tight enough that his knuckles paled in colour. Ryan pretended not to notice.

“Shadles should find himself short of twelve men by now.”

Ryan walked out the front door without waiting for a response.

As soon as he was out of sight of Geoff, Ryan stopped in his tracks, unsure as to where to go next. He hadn’t really thought this through, only knowing that he needed to give Geoff some space apparently. The sun had passed its peak and was slowly starting its descent beyond Mt Chiliad. Ryan mounted his bike, heel swinging up to kick the stand away, and started his drive to the mountain’s peak.

There was a couple already there when he arrived, standing hand in hand as they watched the sinking sun. Dark orange and pink bled into the sky, the red sun casting long shadows over the city below. The clouds ahead painted a picturesque view, glancing off the sun’s rays. Birds flitted in the trees, loud caws ringing in the atmosphere as they signaled the day’s end. A cold breeze had sprung up, shivers inching down spines as it swept by.

Ryan sat there on the edge for God knows how long, not noticing when the couple left in their utterly domestic dark blue sedan. He’d watched the sun until it appeared as though rested on the ocean at the edge of the world, impervious to the strong glare from the sliver of golden light. There in the moment, Ryan could easily forget that he was on the list of most wanted people for multiple cases of homicide, arson, and theft. It was something he’d done a lot many years ago as a form of escapism, and he experienced a small level of nostalgia in the action now.

The sky had faded to a dark blue, and with it a blanket of chill descended. With every exhale, a visible puff of breath would billow into the night. This high up, away from the city lights, the brightest constellations could be found even before night had fully set. Ryan’s bones were growing stiff and the tips of his ears and nose were starting to feel the bite of the cold. The wind tugged at his hair and clothes, slowly pulling his thoughts back to the present. Ryan absentmindedly thumbed the cuff of his sleeve, deciding he’d been gone for long enough, and rose, cracking his back and neck.

It was almost pitch black when he arrived back at the safe house, the only thing piercing the darkness being the lights filtering through the window. As soon as he walked through the door, the sight of packed duffle bags greeted him. One was tossed over and he quickly caught it.

“We’re moving safe houses.”

*

The base they occupied now was one of their less preferred ones, being much smaller, which was why it would be so ideal. Less preferable meant less lived in, which, by default, meant less known by others outside their crew. 

The house was clearly not as obscure as they had previously thought, however, as a couple of days later they were roused at high noon by the yells of Shadles. 

Ryan was the first one out, mask on, gun gripped tightly in his hand, finger twitching against the trigger. Sleep hadn’t come easy, if at all, the last couple of days, and the din combined with the sun’s hot glare was tipping Ryan closer to migraine territory. He swept his gaze over the other man and his companion, taking in Shadles’ scuffed appearance. His eyes were red-rimmed, heavy bags weighing down his lids giving him an older appearance. His face was scowling with tired frustration and his hair was a scruffy mess. From somewhere within, Ryan felt a twinge of pity and guilt that would probably fade after a minute. 

Geoff emerged not long after, eyes squinting into the sun, and stopped on the porch, next to Ryan close enough so their arms were touching. 

“Hey asshole!” Shadles jibed, “Are you fucking happy now? You can have it, my entire base, too, cause I’m fucking _done_! I’m out!” Geoff made minute movements in response, the shift of his hand along the wooden railing, the stiffening of his spine, the slight recoil of his head. 

“That was a cunt move, and you know it. So _fuck you_ , Ramsey!” The other man spat. “What are you gonna do, send your attack dog after me? Go ahead!” Shadles flicked his eyes over to Ryan before his hysteric gaze searched for something intangible in the air, arms gesturing madly. “What, is he your bitch, too?” 

Ryan barely managed to avoid visibly flinching. 

Geoff’s upper lip was beginning to curl. 

“Take what’s left of your men and get out of here, Shadles. You said it yourself; you’re done.” Geoff’s voice was calm, amazingly, and, without another word, he turned and stalked back inside, ignoring Shadles’ protests, adding further insult to injury. 

Ryan lingered a moment longer, watching impassively as Shadles let out one last aggressive huff before turning and leaving with all the dignity he had left. 

The front door clicked as Ryan walked back in the house. Everyone else was stood in a loose circle, save for Ray who was lounged on the dining chair, facing the others. 

“You shouldn’t let him speak to you like that. Word may spread and others may tempt it.” 

Geoff sighed. 

Ryan noticed their boss cast a short glance towards him, and for a brief moment Ryan thought that he’d send him out after Shadles. To fill his supposed role as Ramsey’s attack dog. Geoff turned back to Michael. 

“Go. Take someone else if you want. Be back by dusk.” Michael nodded curtly, gesturing for Ray to follow him as he left. There was the distant rev of an engine quickly fading away. Geoff slumped onto the couch, thumbs pressed against the bridge of his nose. There was a heavy thud as Gavin placed a bottle of alcohol on the low sandalwood coffee table in front of Geoff before slouching next to the older man, disinterestedly turning on the TV, flicking through channels on low volume. Jack had disappeared into the kitchen, most likely to make a small lunch, and Ryan was about to join her.

Their boss lifted his head and gave Ryan a carefully measured look.

“Ryan-“ Geoff averted his eyes. “Go get some rest, you look tired.”

*

“You nearly cost Gavin his life with that little fucking detour of yours!”

Ryan ripped off his mask, angrily scrubbing away some of the face paint in the process. The rest of the crew silently entered the house behind the two arguing men, silently anxious expressions on each face.

“He knew too much, Geoff!”

“So you murdered him?! He looked like he could easily have taken a bribe!”

“Geoff, really, I’m fine, leave Ryan alone it was just an impulse action there’s no need to-“

“How do _you_ know that? You think that you always know what’s gonna happen, that you’re _always_ gonna be right.” Ryan spat. “We didn’t have the time to chance it.”

“At least I know when _not_ to let my bloodlust control me!” Ryan rolled his eyes, “Not to mention inadvertently decreasing our cut.” And, turning away from the older man, stepped towards the nearest door.

“Geoff, don’t-!”

There was a brief thud and gasp from behind him, and then his shoulder was gripped, spinning him back around so he was nose to nose with Geoff. The other man had his lips pulled back into a vicious snarl as he shoved Ryan up against the wall. Outraged, Ryan gave a sharp jab to Geoff’s nose, feeling a shift under his palm. Geoff instantly reeled back with a choked yell, hand flying up to gingerly cover his nose. He glared at Ryan, and for a moment the younger was certain he would be lunged at again. Instead, Geoff straightened with what dignity he could muster and coldly stalked into one of the back rooms. The slam of the door reverberated through the corridor.

Ryan turned his gaze to the others, still breathing heavily through his nose, fists clenched, before taking his own leave. He didn’t wander far. Though, God, did he have the right mind to take their Adder out on the desert highway, ultimately racing away from his emotional problems like the coward he was.

No, he slumped against the wall of the house, next to – but out of view of – the open front room window, numbly focusing on the conversation between the remaining four crew members.

“Well, at least they spoke for longer than a sentence.” He heard Jack joke, clearly trying to fill the awkward silence. He winced. It’s true that they haven’t been on the best of terms since Shadles’ visit several days back, but –

Were they really that bad?

“If you ask me, I think they’re probably gonna fuck it out sometime soon.” Michael snorted. “Maybe in a week.”

“You kidding me?” Ray piped up, “I’d give five days, max.”

“You wanna start something, Narvaez? Alright. Ten bucks says after a week.”

He could practically hear Ray’s grin. “You’re on.” The two probably exchanged a firm handshake, as they were wont to do.

Jack groaned in exasperation. “Guys, come on, don’t bet on when Ryan and Geoff are gonna hate-bang.”

Yeah, that would be wise. Especially when at least one of them was well within earshot. His curiosity piqued, Ryan peered through the window from the shadows and watched as Jack turned to a seething Gavin hunched on the brown leather couch. The latter was absentmindedly fiddling with one of the dark grey slate coasters from the coffee table.

“You’re not to blame, you know.” Gavin glanced up, irritation clear in his eyes. Jack wasn’t deterred. “They’ve been dancing around each other for weeks almost, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

The guilt left a bitter taste in Ryan’s mouth, and, expectedly, he didn’t stay around. Taking their Adder with the tinted windows, he went for a drive into the city, the sound of sirens still wailing around the approaching streets.

Master of crime and occasional demolitions expert, sure, but as soon as it came to acknowledging his emotions, Ryan was hopeless. At this point, he was pretty sure babies had a better grasp of empathy and emotional expression towards others than he.

*

It was late, well past midnight, when Ryan entered the house. The lights were dim, faint moonlight filtering through the thin blinds, the back half of the house obscured in shadow. Geoff was the only one in, he knew. He’d been out with the other four of their crew when Geoff sent the text.

_Come back to the house._

He was starting to wish he’d convinced (see: forced) at least one of the others to go with him.

_“Sorry, Ry, you’re on your own. No way in hell any of us are going to participate in what will be the first interaction since your lover’s spat.”_

_“That’s_ exactly _why I need you there!”_

An empty bottle of whisky was on its side on the floor, and a spilt glass of water lay on the low coffee table, the magazine underneath already half soaked through. He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it next to the door, and jerked his head around when he heard the crash in the kitchen. Geoff emerged, looking fully well inebriated, and seemed to make a beeline – or as straight a beeline could be when highly intoxicated – to Ryan.

He braced himself for a punch.

There was barely a second to think when Geoff was merely centimetres away as Ryan felt the world tip on its axis. Geoff’s arm supported Ryan’s weight from the lower half of his back as he was bent backwards by the older man. Geoff leaned down so their chests were almost pressed together, one thigh placed between Ryan’s legs, and a hot flush spread across his collar and cheeks at the rush and humiliation of his position.

Geoff broke into a coy grin and he tipped Ryan back upright against him, their noses brushing. Ryan was about to say something, to protest, but Geoff kissed him hard before he had the chance, fingers tightly gripping at his shirt.

Geoff was a good kisser, a great kisser, and it took Ryan a while to become aware of his surroundings again and realise that the inconsistent pressure against his thigh was actually Geoff rutting against him. The kisses became open-mouthed, sloppy, intoxicating. Geoff panted into Ryan’s mouth, their hips rising to a stuttering, unsynchronized grind. The pads of Geoff’s fingers dug into the flesh his waist, his neck, his jaw, as he pushed and pulled Ryan’s body against him. 

Geoff accidentally backed Ryan into the coffee table, knocking the glass and TV remote off onto the floor, nearly tipping themselves over. Once they’d regained their balance, Geoff threw his arms around Ryan’s neck, pulling him in for another open-mouthed kiss, licking into the other’s mouth. Ryan’s fingers gripped at Geoff’s sides, digging into the flesh of his hips, keeping their torsos flushed together. They were breathless when they broke apart, and even then their lips still brushed.

“Fuck me.”

There was a split-second pause, and Ryan closed the gap, hands dipping underneath Geoff’s shirt and rucking it up over his head, only pulling back when needed.

Ryan guided the older man backwards towards the bedroom, fingers dropping down to fumble at Geoff’s fly. Geoff scrambled out of his jeans as Ryan discarded his own shirt, blindly throwing it over his shoulder. If there was a clatter, he didn’t hear it. Ryan kicked the door closed with more force than needed. By the time they’d stumbled to the foot of the bed, they were naked, hungrily grabbing at each other, and a trail of clothes littered the floor.

Geoff had backed up the bed, Ryan following, and spread his knees apart, back resting against the headboard. The younger gent moved between Geoff’s legs, hand wrapping around the base of Geoff’s cock as he nuzzled at the flesh of the other man’s inner thigh. The hand that was free was busy kneading Geoff’s waist, before ghosting up his side to softly scrape his chest. Ryan felt Geoff’s fingers trail up the nape of his neck, twisting into the locks of hair at the back of his neck, trying to maneuver his head further up to where Geoff wanted. He complied; moving his hand away to lick a stripe up the underside of Geoff’s cock, tongue flicking at the slit. He gripped Geoff’s waist, pinning him down as he tried to cant his hips up into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan continued teasing him as high-pitched whines escaped the older’s throat, knowing by now which buttons to press to break his boss down.

“Hurry the fuck up already, Haywood.” The intimidating effect was lost as his voice cracked halfway. Glancing up at his boss through his lashes, Ryan slowly pulled back onto his toes, reaching over to fish for the lube in the bedside table, fingers deftly moving other useless items aside. The bottle was almost empty. He would have to remedy that later. Hooded eyes watched as Ryan fluidly moved back to Geoff.

Keeping his gaze locked on Geoff’s face, Ryan dribbled some of the cool lube onto the palm of his hand, wrapping it around Geoff’s cock, squeezing slightly around the base. Geoff seemed caught between flinching away from the sudden cold and thrusting up into Ryan’s hand to chase the tight feeling. He gave one, two, three strokes that had Geoff moaning whorishly before trailing his hand down to the cleft of Geoff’s ass.

“Ryan, I swear to G-“ He broke off into a choked groan as Ryan pushed a finger in.

As he built up a pace with his finger, Ryan placed his lips back around the head of Geoff’s cock. The slightly unsavoury taste of the lube against his tongue did little to deter Ryan as he gradually took more of Geoff in his mouth. The added lube made the slide much easier. Geoff had brought up the back of his hand to his mouth, trying – and failing – to smother his whimpers. It was about Geoff – had always been about Geoff – as he swirled his tongue along the slit and added a generous lather to his second finger before slipping it alongside the first. He picked up his pace, fingers scissoring with each thrust, as he swallowed around Geoff’s cock, nose nuzzling against the coarse hair just above the base of his crotch. Ryan’s eyes were lidded, feigning nonchalance when really he was deeply focused on angling and crooking his fingers perfectly to find Geoff’s prostate.

A hitched gasp and Geoff was arching his back and moving simultaneously away from Ryan’s fingers and further down onto them. The sudden movement jolted Geoff’s cock further down Ryan’s throat, and he had to fight the urge to immediately gag, throat tightening around the flesh. He pulled off of Geoff’s shaft, messily slurping up excess saliva – he’s pretty sure he could taste some precum as well.

“G- _od_ , Ryan, more, I-“ Ryan muffled the sound by harshly kissing Geoff, feeling the hot slide of their tongues. Feeling Geoff – his boss, his leader, the most wanted man in Los Santos – squirming underneath him gave Ryan a power rush. However, their position wasn’t the best for Ryan to comfortably prep the older man, so he pulled away, watching Geoff’s glazed expression as he caught his breath. His head was tilted back, pale neck presented. He’d give himself time to remark Geoff’s skin a bit later. He slid the hand not covered in lube down the back of Geoff’s thigh, stopping when he reached the back of the knee, and propped it up slightly, looking for an indication to either continue or leave it be. It was barely there, barely noticeable, but Geoff relaxed into the touch, encouraging him on.

He quickly pressed in a third digit, absorbing how Geoff’s jaw fell agape in a silent howl, and started thrusting. He knew Geoff was ready to take him. Geoff knew he was ready to take him. Pulling out, he dragged Geoff so the other man was laid on his back, head propped on a pillow.

“Haywood, if you don’t get your dick in me right now.” Geoff snapped in his authoritative voice, which Ryan would have been able to take more seriously if the other man didn’t gasp out a broken moan immediately after and wasn’t completely flushed from his neck to his cock.

“So needy.” He tutted. Ryan had to lean over Geoff to reach for the stack of condoms he knew Geoff kept in his drawer, but Ramsey quickly regained his attention with a desperate, surprisingly still coherent, whine, grasping at his shoulders and neck to pull him back down.

“Don’t. We’re both clean. I want to feel you.” Oh. Okay. Ryan’s dick just twitched in arousal. He repositioned himself between Geoff’s legs and slicked up his cock, lining himself up. He slowly pressed in, careful to stop if Geoff showed any sign of discomfort. Geoff arched his back in pleasure as Ryan was pressed in to the hilt. Only then did Ryan lean down into the other man’s neck, lips dragging along the skin as he inhaled his natural scent, allowing Geoff the time to adjust to the feeling. Geoff made a small noise, boring his hips further down onto Ryan’s cock.

“Move.” He managed to gasp out, and Ryan complied, slowly at first, drawing it out. He kept the pace. Geoff wrapped his calves around Ryan’s waist, digging his heels into the younger’s back to spur him on. His head was tilted back, throat exposed, and Ryan traced his jugular with his tongue, nipping at the skin of his jaw. His forearms were braced on either side of Geoff, each roll of his hips gradually picking up in pace. Geoff started rocking his hips up, meeting every one of Ryan’s thrusts halfway. Geoff’s fingers were twisting in his hair, causing pricks of pleasurable pain to spark in his scalp. He felt Geoff’s calves sliding up his sides, and that was all the encouragement he needed to pull away in order to hook Geoff’s knees around his shoulders. The new angle had Geoff writhing and gasping in ecstasy. Geoff gave a squeeze of his thighs.

“ _Fuck_ me.” He demanded, growling.

Encouraged by Geoff’s words, Ryan snapped his hips forward. The force managed to push Geoff up the bed, rucking up the sheets underneath him. Geoff responded deliciously, digging his fingers into the flesh of Ryan’s arms and giving a broken gasp.

There was the vaguely distinct slam of the front door that had Ryan slowing to shallow thrusts, grimacing. He could tell Geoff was about to snap at him again, lip starting to curl, and he swiftly pressed his mouth against Geoff’s, effectively smothering any sound that could have made it out. The position is awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but they continue kissing fiercely.

“Ryan? Geoff?” Ryan’s pretty sure it’s Michael, “You guys here?” A sharp pain laced across his lower lip and he quickly turned his attention back to Geoff. He’d taken Ryan’s bottom lip between his teeth and had bitten down hard. Ryan’s fairly certain his lip is bleeding, able to taste the metallic tang of blood on Geoff’s teeth and tongue. He pulled back, mildly irritated.

“Do you _want_ them to know what we’re doing?” His voice is as hushed as it could be when trying to convey that he’s annoyed. In lieu of properly answering, there was a low keening sound caught in the back of Geoff’s throat, a flush of arousal in his cheeks and at the tips of his ears, and he rocked his ass back up against Ryan. When all it does is cause Ryan’s hips to twitch forward a small bit, it’s Geoff’s turn to be annoyed.

“I don’t fucking _care_ , dude,” Geoff was properly glaring daggers at Ryan, “the only thing I _want_ is for you to keep going. I swear to fucking God, if you leave me on the edge one more time-” Their situation suddenly struck Ryan as being so amusing that he had trouble keeping the laughter from bubbling in his stomach, lest he accidentally offend Geoff. There was a small twinge in his chest and he smothered it by pressing open-mouthed kisses against Geoff’s collar. Ryan started to thrust harder, still conscious of keeping the noise as low aw possible. He brought one hand down between them to grasp Geoff’s cock and stroked it haphazardly. Geoff didn’t last for much longer. He came with a long moan, body twitching as strings of come splashed on his stomach. Ryan stroked Geoff through his orgasm. Overstimulated, Geoff dropped his mouth open and let out shuddering gasps.

Ryan stilled, his own orgasm washing over him. Giving a soft groan, he gently lowered Geoff’s legs so they were either side of him. He dropped to his elbows, lips hovering over Geoff’s neck, to regain his breath. They stayed there, breathing heavily into the warm air.

After a moment, Ryan slowly pulled out. He saw Geoff grimace at the sensation, but his boss remained still. Finding a towel, he dampened it with warm water and carefully cleaned them up. Exhausted, he made to pick up his clothes from the floor.

There was a gentle tug on his upper arm, and Ryan looked back at Geoff’s already-half-asleep face.

“Stay.”

The younger cast one more look at the door before moving back up the bed, sliding under the covers and lying on his side. A tattooed arm immediately wrapped itself around his waist, tugging him closer, warmth immediately cocooning him. He closed his eyes, focusing on the way Geoff’s breathing grew steadier, the rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his back, on the shrill chirp of a cricket outside, the low whistle of the wind, the whir of a passing car. The ambience instilled a sense of calm within him as he lay there.

*

He must have eventually fallen asleep, because Ryan awoke to bright sunlight filtering through white blinds and cold air hitting his naked back. The rest was well needed, and he could already tell that the day ahead would be headache-free. He turned around.

Geoff wasn’t there.

A sense of déjà vu sunk in, and Ryan huffed into the pillow.

It seemed that Ryan had emerged from the room just in time to see Michael, sat at the round breakfast table, hand a wad of cash over to a smug Ray and he glared at them. Ray saw, but just gave a quick, suggestive waggle of the eyebrows. Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He glanced around the living room and open kitchen, heart admittedly sinking when he didn’t see Geoff.

Well, guess it was back to square one.

As Michael seethed in his seat, Ray gestured for Ryan to sit at the wooden chair opposite him.

“Jack, the beautiful saint she is, decided to make us all pancakes.” Ryan immediately perked up at the news. “This time with added nuts, and I mean that in the most literal sense.” Ray seemed to pull a bar of dark chocolate out of nowhere, sliding it across the table to rest in front of Ryan. “Little something to go with it.” The gent narrowed his eyes. Ray grinned wolfishly.

There was movement behind the lad, which drew Ryan’s gaze towards a drowsy Geoff nursing a mug of coffee. The other man met his gaze and winked, the corner of his lip twitching up into a smirk. Ryan felt the red of his blush bleed up his neck and to his face and he swiftly looked down.

Maybe it wasn’t.

He caught Ray about to open his mouth and make a comment in his peripheral, but the door slammed open and Gavin sauntered through, dumping a duffle bag full of weapons onto the coffee table up front.

“Look who’s back with the ordnance, lads,” Gavin gave an exaggerated bow, winking in Jack’s direction, who’d just emerged from the kitchen, when he rose, “and lass.”

Jack rolled her eyes, trying to mask her fond smile. “The food isn’t going to serve itself, boys.”

It just so happened that the only free seat left in the base when Ryan reemerged from the kitchen was the one next to Geoff. Ryan could pretty much taste how awkward he was when he sat down it was so obvious. Geoff, on the other hand, acted as though everything was normal. It was a stark contrast to the way he’s behaved around Ryan for the past several days. Ryan was…confused, to say the least.

Feeling the brush of Geoff’s calf against his under the table caused Ryan to jolt, choking and spluttering around his mouthful. The others all gave him brief glances of concern before he waved them off, but he could still feel Geoff’s gaze from the side and feel the gentle worry radiating off the other man. It was all too strange, Ryan couldn’t deal with this, and he just wished he had that goddamned mask on.

*

He wouldn’t exactly say he was avoiding Geoff but… he was avoiding Geoff.

Every time it seemed as though they were about to be left alone together, he’d try to nonchalantly excuse his way out before the last person left. It was cowardly, he knew, but he needed time to just _think_. At least, that was what he told himself. Other times, he’d ask one of the lads on small errands. Usually Ray. He didn’t pry into anything. Ryan appreciated that.

Jack, on the other hand. She was smart, virtually nothing escaped her, and she knew that something was up between Geoff and Ryan. Ryan knew that her intentions were pure, and that she would never try to get Ryan speak about something he was uncomfortable with. On the many nights that Ryan was unable to sleep he would stand outside on the porch, leaning against the railing usually with a drink in hand. During these times, Jack would often join him; never starting a conversation, but as a gesture of solidarity. Ryan always found her presence comforting, and he’d feel less alone.

*

The whirring chopper blades drowned out all other sound. Ryan could almost pretend the cops weren’t blasting their sirens hot on their tails if he didn’t need to aim his gun at them. Geoff had taken up a job from Burns, which was rare for him to do now days, and the six of them were in the middle of the heat. Jack was fully concentrated on maneuvering their asses away from the cops, focused scowl etched on her face.

“Jack, can’t you get this damn thing to move any faster?” Geoff yelled into the headset.

“You try an’ get this hunk of metal to move faster than 150 miles per with all this cargo _and_ your fat asses! The bullets riddling the damn thing aren’t making matters any easier.”

“…Point taken. Boys! Aim for the choppers! We’ll lose ground force another way.”

Ryan grit his teeth, switching to his rocket launcher. He’d only loaded the copter with three rockets. He took aim. Fired. The heat of the explosion blasted Ryan in the face, and the chopper they were in was buffeted, tipping slightly, as Jack was quick to correct their course. Ryan turned his attention to the chopper Ray was shooting at. He watched as a bullet tore through the pilot’s head, the man immediately falling limp against the controls. The co-pilot was quick to react, regaining control from under the dead body, but Ryan soon ended him with a well-aimed shot. The chopper was getting close to them as it descended from above.

Too close.

“Jack! Up! Up, up, up!”

It spiraled down a hair’s breadth away from the back rotor, taking out some of the ground force as it crashed.

“Somebody that’s not Gavin call Lester!” Geoff ordered, ignoring Gavin’s brief squawk of protest. Michael’s reply was immediate.

“I already tried! Bastard said we’re on our own!” Geoff roared in frustration, Jack was quick to offer a solution.

“We’re far from the city by now, I’m gonna fly over Chiliad. Someone down that last chopper, ground force shouldn’t be able to follow us.” Ryan reloaded his rocket launcher, tracking the final helicopter’s movements. Just as he launched the rocket, there was a small explosion at the frontline of the ground squad, kick-starting a pileup of cop cars. The final chopper flew apart, chunks of debris joining the carnage on the road. There was a long, drawn out whistle to his left. Geoff.

Their boss gave Ryan a hearty clap on the shoulder in exhilaration, Ryan being the closest to him, as he congratulated the team.

“Good work, boys, that should hold them back for a while.” Geoff then moved up to poke his head into the cockpit. “Nice and easy, Jack, you’ve done beautifully. You know where the drop-off is?” At the affirmative nod, Geoff slid back to take a seat.

The whirring chopper blades were harrowing to Ryan’s brain. It wasn’t as though this was an uncommon scenario, no. This wasn’t the first, and definitely won’t be the last, time they will have to make a getaway in a helicopter. Ryan’s migraine from earlier that morning was rapidly returning. He thunked his head back against the headrest and let out a small groan of discomfort. He really needed to get some sleep tonight. He wasn’t the only one who realised.

As the chopper started its vertical descent onto the drop-off point, Ryan could feel the familiar discomfort in his gut. It was a smooth landing, as Jack would always ensure, and the Fake AH Crew were soon piling out of the aircraft. Burns was there, stood with his hands behind his back, dark sunglasses shielding his eyes, and there were roughly five other well-built men behind him.

Once all six were out, Burns nodded to his men and they promptly started unloading the cargo.

“Thanks for this, Ramsey. Knew I could count on you.” Geoff tipped his head in acknowledgement.

“Never thought we’d become art thieves.” Burns let out a bark of laughter, eyes tracking the men walking to the warehouse with the paintings in tow.

“Yeah well, there’s a first for everything.” Burns still wore a pleasant smile, looking over the Fake AH Crew before turning his attention back to Geoff. “I’ll get your cut to you by the end of the week. Jenkins and I will need to calculate overall worth. It looks like you brought in a good haul, though, so I’d expect a fairly big cut.” He glanced over the helicopter. “And in a Valkyrie of all vehicles. How’d you get it?”

“We know a guy.”

The conversation deflated after that, and Ryan’s concentration started to lapse, a shrill ringing echoing in his mind. Once everything had been unloaded, Geoff and Burns shook hands, the latter handing Geoff a small wad of cash as a personal thanks, and Geoff gave the signal for his crew to start boarding the helicopter again. The ride back was short and smooth, lacking any form of pursuit, and they soon landed at the abandoned warehouse in the centre of their territory where they’d left their other acquired vehicles.

Jack, Gavin, Michael, and Ray ducked into their official ‘crew-mobile’, leaving Ryan and Geoff to hang on to the outside. Ryan was dreading it, but had resigned himself to his fate, as dramatic as that sounded. Geoff seemed to have other thoughts. He knocked on the tinted window of the driver’s seat, and Michael rolled it down.

“Ryan and I are gonna take the Cheetah. We’ll see you guys back at the house.” And with that the four sped off. Ryan was eyeing Geoff, bemused, as he followed the other man to the car, moving to the passenger’s seat. Geoff usually never passed up the opportunity for all of them to ride together. That and this was the first time in three weeks that they were going to be alone in each other’s presence. An anxious weight festered in his stomach.

The Cheetah was one of the smoothest cars Ryan had ever driven, and its easy maneuvering capabilities made it an even better ride, but it wasn’t just the car that was smoothing Geoff’s usually reckless driving.

“How are you feeling?” Geoff’s voice was dripping with concern. It was a fair icebreaker. Ryan flicked his eyes towards him, wondering if he heard right. Geoff’s gaze was still on the road.

“…Fine, thanks.” They’d stopped at a traffic light, and Geoff took this moment to glance over Ryan, skeptical. He turned back to the road.

“Okay, buddy.” The ride continued in a stiff silence.

When they arrived back at the house, Michael had just locked the car. He turned, saw them pulling in, and waved, a bright smile on his face. Geoff pulled the keys out of the ignition, looking back at Ryan.

“Go get some rest. Take an actual bed.” Geoff seemed to hesitate a bit before continuing, “I need you tomorrow to help plan our next heist. It’s been a while and, despite the job Burns got us, I want us to stay ahead of the game.” Again he paused, eyes darting down. “I don’t doubt our ability, but if I calculated this correctly, it’s going to be possibly the toughest one we’ve ever attempted. Most dangerous, too. I’ve already picked a target. If I tell Jack, she’ll probably yell at me for not keeping her updated, as well as accuse me that ‘my eyes are bigger than my stomach’. Though I suspect she already knows, the perceptive fuck. This needs to be more than successful.” Geoff looked Ryan in the eye, a desperate glint to his expression. “I need your help.”

Ryan nodded wordlessly, first to break eye contact, and took that as his cue to exit the car. He offered a smile to Michael as he passed, subconsciously making his way to one of the bedrooms. After closing the door behind him he looked up, properly seeing where his feet took him, and paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. Memories flashed of the last time he’d been in this room: of Geoff moaning under him, the sheets shifting under his fingers, the slightly salty taste of skin on his tongue and teeth. Ryan blinked them away.

The bed sheets had been changed since then. Ryan shrugged off his leather jacket, his shirt, his jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. He only remembered that he had forgotten to remove his face paint after he had slipped under the thin sheets, and decided against redressing and going to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d deal with the mess in the morning. After he slept.

Sleep. Easier said than done.

It had been a while since Ryan had last lain alone in a king-sized bed. It was nice, spacious, however also felt empty, used to making do with single or double beds. It was still bright outside, having just passed 6pm, and the rest of the crew were still moving around outside. Granted, they seemed to be making an effort to be more quiet. He sighed, closing his eyes and covering them with his forearm in an attempt to block out most of the light.

Lying there, consciousness unwavering, Ryan lost track of time. He was dimly aware of the darkening room, the increase of birds cawing at dusk, the slow rise of cricket chirps outside the window. The staggered sound of doors closing echoed from down the hall, signaling the others retreating for the night.

There was a lull in noise form within the house, and then Ryan heard the door to the room he was in crack open, a sliver of light from the living room illuminating a segment of the bed. It would make sense. Including the couch in the living room, there was one less space available than what was needed to fit all of them separately, one person usually acting as lookout. Whoever it was didn’t come in in the end, only closing the door with a barely audible click.

Night had fully set. Ryan drew his arm away from his face, draping it across his stomach instead. He eventually resigned himself to lying on his back, blankly staring at the ceiling. He was probably hallucinating at this point, but he swore he could feel himself melting into the mattress. He felt his awareness extending beyond him as he lay motionless.

Ryan probably felt himself drift off to sleep for a few minutes sometime through the night, but it had all melded into one blur. Soon enough he was aware of the sun rising, lighting up the room. Knowing that he definitely wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep, no matter how short, anymore, Ryan groggily lifted himself out of bed and left the room.

He headed straight for the kitchen and put the kettle on for a mug of instant coffee. They had an actual coffee machine, however Ryan didn’t want to rouse anyone with the sound or smell of brewing coffee. As he waited, he leaned on the counter, looking out into the living room. He noticed the top of Ray’s mop of dark hair resting on the couch armrest. He turned his head to the left and saw Geoff, lying lengthways on the big leather armchair, his chin resting on his chest, his legs hanging over the opposite armrest. He didn’t look too comfortable.

The kettle started whistling, Geoff shifted in the chair without waking up, and Ryan moved to pour the water, emptying the instant coffee into the mug and stirring. Running his free hand through his bed-rumpled hair, Ryan walked out the door and stood on the porch, leaning against the railing, watching the sky light up.

He was three-quarters of the way through his coffee when Geoff joined him. He could feel him glance over his face. Ryan automatically stiffened. This wasn’t getting any easier.

“You didn’t get any sleep, did you.” Geoff murmured. Ryan brought the rim of the mug up to his lips.

“Nope.” The silence stretched on.

“Do you wanna…talk about it?” Geoff continued uncertainly. Ryan shot him a pointed look. “Okay, okay, maybe not.” There was another pause. This time it was awkward.

“Didn’t you want me to help plan a heist?” Ryan prompted after he was pretty certain Geoff wasn’t going to move. Geoff cleared his throat, and Ryan didn’t miss the faint flush spreading up the nape of his neck.

“I- yeah, let’s head back in.”

*

“Okay, so going by that, we could instead bring the car down this back corner where we’ll have a chopper waiting.” Ryan explained. Geoff nodded as he followed along, brows furrowed. “That way, assuming the LSPD won’t bring any choppers of their own, we’d have a few seconds to board the chopper and get out of there.”

Ryan and Geoff were stood at adjacent sides of the table, hunched over a scribbled-over copy of their map, shoulders brushing.

“Alright, but if the LSPD do send choppers after the car, we would be cornered.” Geoff’s eyes lit up, he tapped his finger against the map. “What if. What if we get a Cargobob? Lift the car while it’s still on the move.” Ryan paused, staring at Geoff, wondering if he heard right.

“We’ve never tried that before.” He deliberated it. “But it could work.” Geoff looked up, and suddenly their faces were far too close. They stood, frozen. Geoff cleared his throat and straightened his back.

“Great. We can test out the Cargobob thing later. If it doesn’t work, we’ll figure something else out. You were a huge help, buddy.” Geoff strode out of the room. His voice sounded down the hall, talking into the phone. The small knot of tension in Ryan’s gut had loosened.

*

The streetlamp on the other side of the road cast a faint orange glow through the tinted windows of the car, hardly enough to illuminate their faces. Michael was slumped in the passenger seat beside him, head tucked into his chest, arms crossed, eyes closed, feet resting on the dashboard. After a report from Kdin on rival gang activity on the border of their territory, Geoff had sent the two of them on a stakeout. The other four were on a drug takedown. Michael shrugged his shoulders, shifting deeper into his seat.

“Anything?” He mumbled.

“Nope.”

“Mmm, that’s too bad.” Ryan wasn’t entirely sure whether he was being sarcastic or not.

Ryan gave a sigh and absentmindedly tapped the steering wheel. He turned the radio on, volume low. Several minutes passed. His eyes tracked the movements of everyone walking along or across their street and he observed all of their fine details, their small ticks. It was a suburban area, not very populated – especially at this time of night. It was also dimly lit, only four streetlamps working of the nine along the road. A cat was sat on a fence, silhouetted against the light of one of the lamps.

“…okay?” Ryan turned to Michael, hand moving up to turn the volume lower.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said: you’ve been seeming a bit off lately. You okay?” Michael’s concern was nice, appreciated, but wasn’t exactly what Ryan wanted to hear. It implied an obvious change in him. He frowned to himself. He could name a plethora of reasons as to why he’s been a bit ‘off’: the insomnia, the heist, the feeling of adjusting to group life after years alone. However his thoughts had only been preoccupied with one thing recently. Geoff.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a small cold.” The lie came easy. Michael hummed in response.

“Alright, if that’s all it is.” Michael didn’t believe him. “Maybe you can get Gavin to teach you his sick-free ways.” Ryan gave a small huff of amusement. Michael continued. “Strange that Geoff would assign both of us this stakeout job instead of the probably far more dangerous cartel deal taking place up north.” Ryan was pretty confident he knew why. He was pretty confident that Michael knew, too.

“I’m sure Geoff has his reasons.”

Michael scoffed.

“Yeah. I’m sure he does.” A silence lingered.

Not soon enough, Michael’s phone buzzed, the fluorescent screen light flashing on. He pulled it out of his pocket, scanning over the message.

“Got the shit. All safe. Headed back to base. Stay a couple more hours. If coast is clear, come back.” Michael read. “Well, no doubt they’re gonna celebrate.” Ryan made a curt noise of agreement. “Too bad we’re gonna be missing out on the start.”

It was nearing 2am. After no activity _at all_ , they drove back at a leisurely pace, greeted with inebriated hoots of laughter.

*

Ryan was laughing in exhilaration. It had been a while since he’d flown the Cargobob at this speed. The early sun cast its bright gleam across the interior of the cockpit, causing the inside to glow a soft orange. He was already feeding off the adrenaline high after he and Geoff managed to successfully hook their van. Geoff’s voice crackled in his ear.

“I can’t believe that fuckin’ worked!”

“Me neither! Great idea, Ramsey!” Ryan joked.

“All my ideas are great, what are you talking about!” Ryan could hear Geoff’s grin.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s why you’re the boss.” He looked below him. “I’m gonna drop you off on that deserted runway, hang on.”

Ryan made sure Geoff was hovering roughly a foot above the ground before he released the hook attached to the roof of the van. After Geoff’s signal, he landed the Cargobob several feet away. Hopping out of the cockpit, he walked over to an elated Geoff.

“Holy shit, a bit more practice and we could actually pull this off really well.” The other man greeted, pulling the communicator out of his ear. “You did beautifully! Fuck, you were like an angel raising me up from perdition.” Ryan couldn’t help but snort at the ironic analogy.

“We could go again right now, if you want.” Geoff laughed.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but right now I wouldn’t trust you to drive a car.” Ryan sputtered in indignation. “You need some rest, buddy.”

“But-!”

“ _Rest_.” Ryan opened his mouth, further protest perched on the tip of his tongue, but was cut off, “And lying in bed wide awake with your eyes open does not constitute as ‘rest’. Come on, I’ll drive you back.”

After getting a reluctant Ray to come pick up the Cargobob (“seriously, Geoff? We’ve got the B-team to do this shit _for_ us”), Geoff started driving them back. He’d turned on the radio at full blast and was singing at the top of his lungs. Badly. At first, Ryan mourned for his ears, but he eventually joined in whenever he knew a lyric. When Geoff took them on a longer route than usual, he didn’t question it.

They stopped along the way for takeout to bring back for the rest of the crew, still drunk off their high. Geoff almost kicked the door down in his enthusiasm, his other arm slung over Ryan’s shoulders, pulling him along. The remaining crew greeted them, and their food, with open arms. There’s an overall positive mood in the front room, and Ryan caught Jack standing in the doorway, watching Geoff with a pleased, fond smile on her face. She caught Ryan’s eye and sent him a thumbs up and a wink, lips stretching into a wicked grin at his flushed appearance. He ducked his head in embarrassment and took the crew’s temporary distraction to slip out onto the porch, feeling Jack’s sharp gaze follow him out.

The warm sun filled Ryan with a sense of contentment and he closed his eyes, giving a deep inhale. As the adrenaline wore off, the space it left was filled with a heavy bone-weariness. Ryan could feel it weighing down his limbs, however he knew that it still wouldn’t be enough to drag him to sleep. He was able to hear the hoots of laughter from inside the house as the crew exchanged jokes and anecdotes.

The sound suddenly increased in volume before returning back to its original muffled noise. He felt someone stop to stand next to him and cracked an eye open, looking down at the two tattooed hands in front of him. One was offering a can of coke to Ryan, the condensation trickling down its tin sides, while the other held a glass half-full with whisky. Ryan wordlessly accepted the offered drink. He met Geoff’s eyes, which were carefully conducted, showing concern and fondness, but revealing little else. Ryan expected Geoff to say something, a speech of sorts. He didn’t. Geoff held up his glass, giving a slight tilt of his head as he did so.

“Cheers.”

There was the dull ting of tin against glass.

*

Ryan was laid on his back along the foot of the bed, feet touching the floor. The door swung open and he felt a couple of objects thump onto the bed with a soft rattle. He looks up. Geoff is standing by the foot of the bed, silhouetted by the light coming in from the corridor, looking down at him with a disgruntled grimace on his face, glass half-full with still water in his hand.

“Do you know the shit I had to go through to get those pills?”

Ryan slowly blinked at him, bemused. “…No.”

“Too much for just a few sleeping pills.” Ryan propped himself up, watching as Geoff moved to place the glass on the bedside table before making his way back to the foot of the bed.

“I never asked you to get them, you know.” A flicker of a frown crossed over Geoff’s face. His eyes darted to the right, avoiding Ryan’s.

“Listen, someone’s got to take care of you if you won’t do it yourself.” Ryan tried not to give an exasperated sigh.

“I’ve told you. I don’t need anyone to ‘take care of me’, I’ll be _fine_.” The frustration was starting to seep into his tone. Geoff threw his hands up and dragged them down his face.

“God _damnit_ , Ryan, why d’you have to be so fucking _stubborn_ all the time. I just-“ Geoff cut himself off, arms frozen mid-action, before dropping them limply to his sides. Ryan feels his throat constrict, confused at the foreign feeling.

“Geoff, please, I-“

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Ryan doesn’t think he’s ever heard Geoff sound this emotionally drained, this unguarded. It’s…grounding. There’s no trace of the confident, headstrong gang leader who believes he’s immortal. And that scares him a bit. “Why won’t you let me help you?” At first, Ryan worries that Geoff is about to _cry_ of all things, but is quickly assured when Geoff looks up at him with hurt annoyance in his eyes. There’s a weight behind his words, an almost hidden meaning, and that’s when Ryan understands.

“Geoff, I-” The words struggled to leave him. He swallowed, trying to alleviate some of the tight discomfort in his throat. “I didn’t know.” He finished lamely. Geoff gave a bitter smile at that.

“I guess now you do.”

He drew a blank. Ryan had spent years living in the empty shadow he’d carefully constructed as the masked Vagabond. He had been comfortable, more than comfortable, in the knowledge that, to other people, he was the sadistic, trigger-happy rogue, feared in his anonymity. Now he was just Ryan Haywood, insomniac who may or may not be falling for his boss.

He must have let the silence stretch on for too long, because Geoff’s lip twitched into a rueful smile before he started to turn away from him.

“You better take those fucking pills.” The words held no heat.

Something within Ryan spurred him into action, rising from the bed and crossing the room in a few long strides. He reached Geoff before the other managed to leave. Grasping his arm, Ryan turned Geoff back around and pressed a bruising kiss against his lips. Geoff gave a soft whine, his hand reaching up to tangle in the hair at the nape of Ryan’s neck. After a moment, Geoff pulled away, breath heavy. His eyes scanned Ryan’s face, gaze full with uncertainty, almost frantic.

“I’m sorry.”

Geoff blinked. He let out a surprised bark of laughter.

“You fucker.” He pulled Ryan back down into a kiss, laughing fondly against his lips. Ryan couldn’t help the grin pulling at his lips. Geoff’s happiness was infectious.

A second silence fell around them, much more comfortable than the last. Ryan found himself staring into Geoff’s deep blue eyes, brimming with mirth. Time seemed to slow around them, and Ryan was dimly aware of the dull ache in his chest that resembled his pulse. Something must have changed in his expression, reflected in Geoff’s eyes.

There was a hitched breath and they were kissing again.

Their movements were slow, languid, as they lay open-mouthed kisses against each other, drinking in their fill. Hands wandered, never still for too long. There was a desperation in their movements. It wasn’t the type of hungry desperation driven from lust. It was the type of desperation felt when you’re scared of the moment ending

They eventually pulled away, panting to regain their breath, and Ryan rested his forehead in the crook of Geoff’s neck. He inhaled deeply, drowning himself in Geoff’s scent. It spurred him into mouthing at Geoff’s neck, up to his jaw. Geoff tilted his head down, capturing Ryan’s mouth back into a kiss. Geoff’s hands slid from the nape of Ryan’s neck to either one of his cheeks, gently yet persistently holding him there. Ryan felt himself melt into the touch, easily allowing Geoff to maneuver him around as Geoff pleased.

Geoff started slowly guiding him backward, keeping him close. They stopped when Ryan felt the backs of his calves brushing the duvet hanging off the side of the bed. Geoff pulled back with a wet sound in order to catch Ryan’s attention. The unspoken question shimmered in the air between them. Heart pounding, Ryan gave his answer by enthusiastically tugging Geoff back to him. Geoff ran his hands down Ryan’s sides until they rested in the dips of his hips. Ryan felt the gentle tug and followed through, dropping to sit on the side of the bed. Geoff was bent over him, mouth still plastered against his, the angle only slightly uncomfortable. Geoff languidly knocked Ryan’s knees apart with his hands before sinking down between them, disrupting the kiss.

They hovered there for a moment, two pairs of blue eyes locked onto each other, entranced. Geoff was the first to move, hand sliding to pull at the zipper of Ryan’s jeans, and Ryan felt his pulse quicken, giving a small lift of his hips so that Geoff could inch them down his thighs. Eyes never leaving his, Geoff lowered his head to mouth to breathe over Ryan’s crotch. Ryan gave a shaky exhale, and a shiver ran down his spine at the humid warmth.

“May I?”

Ryan gave a single small nod. When Geoff didn’t move, he cleared his throat and breathed out softly.

“Yes.”

Geoff ran his tongue along Ryan’s crotch, quickly dampening the fabric of his underwear, and Ryan had to stop his hips from rolling upward. Instead, he curled his fingers around the bed sheets under him, twisting them. After a minute of teasing, Geoff pulled Ryan’s underwear down, freeing his dick. Wasting no time, Geoff lowered his mouth onto Ryan’s dick, stroking what he couldn’t take with his hand. Ryan tipped his head back and panted into the air. With his free hand, Geoff found one of Ryan’s wrists and guided his hand up to thread through Geoff’s hair. Ryan was hesitant to actually tug at first, but when Geoff’s throat constricted against the head of his cock his fingers tightened their hold.

Ryan was gasping, barely thrusting into Geoff’s mouth as Geoff took him deeper, humming around his dick. It wasn’t long before Ryan was tugging at Geoff’s hair, urging him to simultaneously move away and sink further down. He was close, so close, to coming. Geoff ran his tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock, causing Ryan to arch his spine in pleasure. They joked about it often within the crew, but _damn_ Ryan had had no idea that Geoff was ridiculously good at giving head.

Ryan was only able to gasp out a curse before he was coming down Geoff’s throat. The other man took it in stride. Swallowing around Ryan’s cock, Geoff milked him through his high until Ryan was twitching from oversensitivity. Geoff slowly pulled away from the younger’s cock. Ryan breathed deeply, trying to calm his beating heart. Geoff rose from his knees so that he was slightly bent over Ryan and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips. The kiss was long and languid. Geoff insistently pressed against Ryan, lowering him so that his upper body was being supported by his elbows. Geoff climbed up onto the bed, and Ryan could see his erection pressing against the fabric of his dark blue jeans. Geoff guided them up the bed, but not before Ryan kicked off his pants.

Head rested on one of the pillows, Ryan’s head was tilted up as Geoff commandeered the kiss, tongue roving in Ryan’s mouth. Half lying on the man below him, Geoff lazily rolled his hips against Ryan’s thigh. Ryan pushed Geoff back so that he could sit up and promptly turned to retrieve the bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside drawer. Seeing what Ryan was doing, Geoff placed a hand on his arm.

“Ryan, there’s no need, I’ll be fine.” He said. With the items in hand, Ryan moved to press a kiss on the corner of Geoff’s mouth.

“I want you to.”

Geoff started kissing Ryan again, gently taking the lube and condom from his hand. Ryan pulled away in order to tug Geoff’s shirt over his head and haphazardly drop it onto the floor, his own shirt following. Ryan helped Geoff get out of his pants, fumbling a bit in their haste, and then Geoff was nudging Ryan to lie back. Geoff was knelt between Ryan’s thighs. He uncapped the lube and poured a liberal amount onto his fingers before starting to slowly finger him. Ryan pulled Geoff down so that they could continue making out. Ryan sighed in contentment as Geoff lazily stroked inside of him, rubbing his prostate each time.

When Ryan was stretched enough, Geoff leant back in order to roll on the condom before smoothly sliding down to the hilt. Ryan was still feeling minorly oversensitive from his earlier orgasm, and the constant pressure against his sweet spot sent ripples of arousal through his body. Geoff began to roll his hips, causing the ripples to turn into spikes that travelled directly to Ryan’s gut. Ryan reached up and dug his nails into the skin of Geoff’s tattooed shoulders, tugging him down for a sloppy kiss. After further stimulation, they were reduced to panting into each other’s mouths, fingers digging into scalps.

Ryan was hard again, and Geoff’s ruts into his ass were simultaneously too much to bear and not enough. Softly growling, Ryan surged up and rolled them over so that he was on top and ground his ass down onto Geoff’s cock, eliciting a sharp groan from the man under him. Geoff gripped at Ryan’s hips, hard enough that Ryan suspected he’d be sporting dark bruises later. Geoff was thrusting upward, jostling Ryan and nailing his prostate every time.

The sensations had Ryan gasping desperately, edging towards his second orgasm. Geoff seemed to sense it as well, and he wrapped a hand around Ryan’s leaking cock. He teased Ryan, thumbing at the slit in order to watch the younger man writhe on top of him, freely at his mercy. Ryan moaned in frustration, caught between thrusting into Geoff’s hand and rolling back onto Geoff’s cock, a heavy pressure steadily building low in his gut. Eventually, the pleasure was too much and Ryan fell over the edge, spilling onto Geoff’s hand and stomach, clenching around the other’s dick and moving to ride out his orgasm.

“Ah, fuck, R _yan-_ “ Geoff barely managed to growl out before, with one final thrust, he came.

Utterly exhausted, Ryan allowed his body to collapse on top of Geoff’s the scent of sex and sweat filling the room. After a moment of regaining their breath, Geoff helped Ryan to move off of Geoff’s spent cock. Unable to gather the energy to do much else, Ryan flopped onto his back with a small huff.

Geoff saw to the aftercare, disposing of the used condom and snatching a soft towel to gently wipe Ryan clean, before seeing to himself. By the time Geoff returned to the bed Ryan had rolled onto his stomach, cheek pressing into the soft feather pillow, and was already drifting to sleep, the sleeping pills unnecessary for the moment. Ryan felt the mattress dip and then Geoff was half lying on top of him. The warmth and the weight of Geoff was more than welcome, and Ryan soon lost consciousness.

When Ryan awoke the next morning, he was aware of many things at once. He was aware of a living warmth pressed along his back and the gentle weight on his waist. He was aware of the arm his head is propped against and the soft scratch of Geoff’s moustache against the nape of his neck. He sucked in a deep, contented breath. The movement stirred Geoff, but all the older man did was nuzzle further into Ryan’s neck, breath tickling his skin. Grinning in relief, Ryan blearily opened his eyes and he was greeted first by the bold ink curling around the inner side of Geoff’s forearm.

He lay there, unmoving, not wanting to be the first to disturb the peace that had settled over them through the night.

There was a deep inhale and a rustle of the sheets to signal that Geoff was awake, then Ryan felt the older man press a scratchy kiss to the nape of his neck and he couldn’t help the smile from spreading across his face.

“Good mornin’, Haywood.” His voice was still slurred with sleep and Ryan wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Just under a year late. Man, if you needed any indication as to how slow I am at writing, here it is. I'll be honest though, this could have been posted like, over four months ago but wasn't because I took fucking forever to write a measly 500 words.
> 
> This probably marks the end of the trilogy/series, but I'm not opposed to writing more from this au. 
> 
> Currently working on another fic but uh...who knows how long that's gonna take to finish. Not me, that's for sure
> 
> hmu on tumblr at nightxpine.tumblr.com


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